Cluck off, it's Friday.

This week has been useless. I've wanted to blog, but couldn't find anything to get rage-worthy about, or couldn't concentrate on any one thing so couldn't narrow it down. But now I feel bad because I haven't produced anything. I feel like a bad mother, who has just left her kids to starve because she couldn't think of what to cook. Or something. Hey, there's good reason why I don't have kids. That's one of them.

Okay, so here's some random stuff.... stream of consciousness style.

Earlier this week, I was 'had'. Like "PSYCH!" or punk'd... had. First, lemme tell you that I have an iPhone - I finally won that little (admittedly petty) battle and got an unlocked sim. She's called Kumquat Koekie and has been working fine. To be honest, the whole process seemed a little bit too easy compared to my usual fights. So when I recently sent an sms to a friend (who has a Crackberry) and got an automated response informing me that smses from unlocked iPhones are undeliverable to this particular sender, I flew into a little mini-rage. The audacity of these fekking mobile providers, who the fek do they think they are completely dominating our lives and dictating what we do, who we consort with and how we do it! I instructed Mills to contact the friend (we were going over to visit them shortly) and muttered and stomped much like an angry bag lady on the walk over to their place.

On arrival, the first thing my friend asked was how my iPhone is working out. That's when the light started to come on in my head. Admittedly, it had taken me so long that it wasn't a very loud or instantaneous click. It was more like an energy saving lightbulb that takes several minutes to get up to full brilliance. Aaaaw man. I'd been had. He grinned with nefarious glee, delighting in my realisation. He'd sent the 'automated' response and was over the moon when he got a second similar sms from Mills, knowing that I had been hook-line-and-sinkered with his text. Well played, my man. Well played.

Anyway, other than that - Kumquat Koekie is working as well as any piece of technology within my daily contact can be expected to function. She's only been dropped three times, and I've had her for almost a month. She's holding up well.

Thinking of things accidental, I got off to a sterling start this morning. First I clamped my left ring finger in my uber-hot, ultra-iron-all-hair-dead straightener this morning. Two hundred and thirty degrees of skin pealing heat. Then I clamped my right ring and pinky fingers in the fold-up table on the train, forgetting that when you close those contraptions they generally spring shut with some velocity. So before 9am, I was three fingers down... eight to go. Not bad, even by my standards.

And to the end the week, I leave you with yet another stunning example of love between boyfriend and girlfriend:

4:27 PM Koekie: how're the tikka masala preparations going?

4:30 PM Mills: well.

I have taken the chicken out.

Koekie: good good

4:31 PM approved

Mills: if I leave it long enough it may cook itself

Koekie: here's how you'll know:

first it needs to defrost

then it'll probably start clucking...

4:32 PM **pah-keurrrk**

Mills: cluck you

Koekie: then, then the clucking dies down, you'll know that it's cooked

Mills: ha ha ha thats quality humour

Koekie: I'm presuming that you're laughing at your, rather than my, humour. Although mine is clearly of a far more developed standard.

Mills: yes cluck face

4:33 PM never gets old

Koekie: right back at ya, cock

4:36 PM Ja, in your face

You have nothing

4:38 PM Mills: cluck off

4:43 PM yeah thats right, sit quietly in the corner

4:45 PM Koekie: go chanticleer yourself

yeaaaaaaah - I just went medieval poulty on YOUR ASSMills: I bite my thumb at you sir

4:53 PM Koekie: you bite your thumb at me? I bite my thumb at you...

Thereafter followed a rather broken Shakespeare recital attempt. If this doesn't demonstrate a solid adult relationship, I don't know what does.